Kin (36 page)

Aunt Colleen said she could stay as long as she didn't interrupt anyone. A big car pulled up and two elderly couples emerged wearing fanny packs and sun visors. Aunt Colleen greeted them and they said they were thrilled to be here in Cape Breton, wasn't the weather beautiful and they couldn't get over how friendly everyone was. Her aunt asked them where they were from and they said Columbus, Ohio. Hilary thought their accents sounded different.

They smiled at Hilary and said how cute she was. Hilary didn't like being called cute but she never let on. Then the two ladies went nuts over the quilts and especially the hooked coasters and table runners. The handmade rag dolls they adored. They'd never see anything more beautiful and were enthralled when Colleen said she'd made them herself. The two men said they knew they shouldn't have stopped in. Everyone laughed. The men went to sit on the new Adirondack chairs that were placed outside on the lawn for just such a purpose. Aunt Colleen said she'd learned over the years that if men were comfortable, their wives shopped longer. She sent Hilary out with some lemonade for them and you'd think she'd given them gold. They couldn't get over it.

The two ladies bought every one of the dolls because they said they had six granddaughters between them. Hilary wondered why older people always thought girls would like dolls.

Then they picked up two table runners, two sets of hooked coasters, an embroidered tablecloth, painted rocks, a piece of driftwood that looked like a loon, bars and bars of homemade goat milk soap, and four jars of honey.

By the time they left Aunt Colleen knew their life history and called them by name. “Thank you, Deborah. Thank you, Dana. Have a great time around the trail!”

After they left Hilary looked at the handful of cash in Aunt Colleen's hand. “Holy moly. Do you sell this much every day?”

“During the summer. That's why I pay some of the local women to hook and sew and quilt for me. Lila and I would never be able to make all these things on our own. Our business has grown.”

“And then you get the families who pay to let their kids pet our pets. I wonder if I could do that with Precious. Probably not. He's too cranky.”

Aunt Colleen set about replenishing her inventory, so Hilary went into the house and found Lila at the kitchen table making a list. She went over and looked at it. Lila put her arm around her waist.

“Anything I can do for you?” Hilary asked.

“Yes, you can keep me company while I do this.”

“That's not very important.”

“It's terribly important to me to have a little girl sit at my kitchen table. Would you mind?”

“Sure.”

“Before you sit, go into the pantry and get us some molasses cookies. I made them this morning. And get two glasses of milk.”

Hilary set about getting their snack and when she was done she sat. Lila gave her a big smile. She picked up a cookie and held it in the air, gesturing for Hilary to do the same.

“To us!”

“To us!” Hilary repeated.

They knocked their cookies together and dunked them in the milk.

To Hilary's delight, Ewan's parrot, Polly, was awake and feisty that day. Lila told her that someone had given the bird to Ewan because they knew he would take care of it. Polly was over thirty years old and they didn't know much about her other than she could swear like a trooper. She was forever hollering for people to “Come in!” when someone knocked on the door. More than once Lila said she found people standing in her back porch looking confused.

So while Hilary and Lila ate their cookies, Polly was on her perch eyeing the cat, who was eating a dish of food on the counter, away from the dogs. The cat's tail swished back and forth. Polly reached over and bit the end of it. The cat turned around and swatted Polly so hard she landed on the floor.

It all happened so fast, Hilary and Lila didn't have time to react. Polly flew back on her perch and screeched, “You son of a bitch!”

The two of them fell into fits of laughter and made such a commotion that Polly turned on them. “Drop dead!”

Hilary eventually went back to the cottage ahead of Colleen so that she could report in to Grampy. He was in the kitchen preparing supper.

“Hi Grampy! My secret mission is complete.”

“Wonderful. What did you find out?”

Hilary took out her notebook out and looked at it. She sat on a chair and jumped right back up again. “Ow!!”

“What's wrong?”

“I sat on that!”

It was the electric frying pan he'd placed on a chair because there were so few outlets at the cottage you had to make do. There were sausages in it. Fortunately it was on low.

Grampy looked upset. “Did you get a burn?”

Hilary wiped her greasy jogging pants. I don't think so.”

“Don't tell Aunt Colleen. She'll kill me.”

“I won't.”

She changed her pants before she stood and delivered her report. Grampy sat on the sofa with a glass of sherry.

“Our suspect's name is Duncan something. I don't know his last name because people only call him Duncan and I didn't want to raise suspicions if I asked Ewan or Lila.”

Grampy nodded approvingly. “Quite right.”

“But I can check his mailbox at the top of the road if you like.”

Grampy put his hand out. “No! Don't do that. Never go up to the highway by yourself. The cars drive by too fast up there. Do you promise me?”

“I promise. Okay, so Duncan has brown hair but sometimes it looks lighter. He has blue eyes I think. He's taller than Ewan but not as thick. He was at work before I got there, so he must come early. He helped Ewan unload bags of seed, he cleaned out the horse stalls, fed the goats and donkey, and put a splint on the wing of one of the ducks. The duck wasn't happy.

“I casually asked Ewan what his favourite colour was and he said blue. Duncan was standing right there so he said green, like the trees and the grass.

“Then he helped Ewan fix a fence, he milked the cows, and he took some people around to show them the animals. He made them laugh a lot. When Aunt Colleen came out to ask him something, he made her laugh too. She told him he was being silly and he said what's wrong with that? He watched her go back into the house and then he put his gloves back on and shovelled cow poop.

“I conclude that Duncan is a hard-working, funny, nice man, who likes Aunt Colleen and the colour green. The end.”

Grampy put down his glass and clapped. “An excellent report, Miss Roth. You make a superb spy and I will use your services at a future date, if that's convenient.”

“Very.”

When Aunt Colleen came home for supper, she asked Grampy to pass her the plate of sausages. He did, and then turned to Hilary. “In my day, they were called bum warmers.”

Aunt Colleen couldn't figure out what was so funny.

Colleen's grandfather Louis Hanover died at the age of ninety-five. He'd been sick for years, but when you have money death can sometimes be delayed for a while. He left his empire to his son, Louis Jr., and daughter, Kay, with endowments to many charities and foundations that were close to his heart.

Louis and his partner, Stephens, still lived in New York City. They flew in on a private jet for the funeral. The church was packed and the reception afterwards was catered. If Colleen hadn't known better, she would have said it was a cocktail party for the movers and shakers of the business world. Her grandfather's body was placed in the family crypt at a local cemetery. Colleen didn't know they had a family crypt. It sounded creepy. Her sister said it was on the better side of the cemetery.

“You mean he's on the side that's deader than dead?”

Their mother told them their grandfather had left them both a letter that was to be read in private. Colleen was intrigued. Naturally Frankie ran off and came back about a minute later. “He said I was a beautiful girl and he loved me. He gave me a cheque for fifty thousand dollars and told me to spend it on shoes!”

While Frankie celebrated, Colleen went into her old room. She opened up the letter.

Dear Colleen,

Your mother has kept me up to date with the work you've done on the farm in Cape Breton, and how the craft store has now hired more people in your rural area. You have a nose for business, my dear. Maybe you're even a chip off the old block. I know you haven't had it easy, but in the end that's what will make you stronger. You're a beautiful girl and I love you. Grandfather.

Colleen felt like crying. She hadn't really known her grandfather, and now, seeing his shaky handwriting, she realized that that was an opportunity lost. You think these people are going to be around forever. He practically
was
around forever, and they had never spent any time together. Why was that? It was a shame.

Her cheque was for fifty thousand dollars too. Then she looked again. There was another zero. A half a million dollars? What on earth was she going to do with this? She didn't deserve it. The little voice inside (the one everyone in the family called Aunt Annie) said, “Put it away until you can think.” That's what she'd do. She'd deposit it at the Credit Union when she got back to Cape Breton. She could only think on the beach with Lucky beside her.

Colleen tucked the cheque into her wallet, put the wallet in her purse, put her purse in her suitcase, and zipped and locked the suitcase. She almost put the key down the front of her bra, a consequence of having watched too many cowboy movies.

She joined her mother and sister.

“Well,” Frankie asked, still grinning from ear to ear.

“He said I was a beautiful girl and that he loved me. My cheque is for fifty thousand dollars too!”

“Did he tell you what to spend it on?”

“Candy.”

“Oh, he did not. Daddy always was a generous man,” Mom sniffled. “I'll miss him.”

Dad came down for the funeral of course. He and her grandfather had respected each other. At seventy, Dad looked pretty good for his age, but Colleen knew he suffered with his stomach. She could always tell when he was in pain. His eyes looked duller.

He was taking her and Frankie out for dinner and asked Mom if she and Derek would like to come along. Mom said that would be nice, but when she met them at the restaurant she was alone. Dad pulled out her chair for her.

“Where's Derek?”

“Something came up. He had to go out of town at the last minute.”

Just the way she said it, Colleen knew something was wrong, but her mother arranged her face into a polite mask. “This is nice, isn't it? Just the four of us.”

Colleen did think it was nice. It reminded her of when they used to sit at the table in Montreal. “I wonder what ever happened to Elena?”

Frankie took a sip of water. “She always liked you better than she liked me.”

“She hated me too, Frankie, so don't worry about it.” Mom picked up the menu and stared at it.

Dad looked confused. “Who are we talking about? Who hated who?”

“It doesn't matter…it was our cook in Montreal.”

“Why would she hate you?”

“She always thought I was too hard on Colleen about her eating habits.”

“You were.”

Colleen silently cheered.

“I don't want to ruin the evening. Let's drop it.”

Colleen looked at her mother. “You never want to talk about it. Does that mean you feel guilty, please, God?”

The waiter picked that moment to come and take their orders for drinks. Colleen was surprised when Mom ordered a glass of white wine. She and her father and sister gave each other covert glances. Mom didn't look up from the menu. “Mind your own business.”

Colleen had been planning on having a nice piece of baked salmon, but reconsidered.

The waiter came back with their drinks and asked if they were ready to order. Dad looked around. “Does anyone want appetizers first? I don't.”

Both Mom and Frankie said no.

“I'll have the large sampler platter and for dinner I'll have the fettuccine carbonara,” Colleen said calmly.

Her mother glared at her.

Colleen glared back. “Mind your own business.”

Dad ordered a steak and baked potato. Frankie wanted fish and chips, and mom said she'd have a piece of grilled chicken with steamed vegetables.

When the waiter put the sampler platter in front of Colleen, it was so big she had to move her cutlery and glass out of the way. It was piled high with onion rings, mozzarella sticks, chicken fingers, potato skins, and Buffalo wings.

She looked at her mother's face. Dad and Frankie were killing themselves in the background.

“Would you like some, Mother?”

Mom grabbed an onion ring. “You think you're funny, don't you?”

They damn near ate all of it.

Before they went back to Cape Breton, Colleen and her dad invited Frankie's kids to go out for lunch. The boys declined, which was too bad. Colleen didn't know her nephews as well, now that they were growing up. That would hopefully change when they got older.

The person they really wanted to take to lunch was Hilary. Both Colleen and her dad nearly died when they arrived for the funeral. She had pink hair, a nose ring, and so much eyeliner on she looked like a raccoon. Her face brightened when she saw them, and Colleen could still make out the little girl they adored, but the minute her mother walked in the room, the smile was replaced with a sullen demeanor. It was like a light had switched off.

They took her to a Thai restaurant she liked. Colleen knew her father wouldn't be able to eat anything, but he was a trooper. He ordered some sort of plain noodle concoction and fiddled with it.

“So, how goes the war?” Dad asked her.

“Which one? The one at home, the one at school, or the one being waged on our planet by gas-guzzling freaks who drive their kids a block to school in their shiny SUVs?”

Colleen figured she'd better pick one. “The one at home.”

Hilary ate her pad Thai with chopsticks. “Mom spends her life at the gym or the spa or the mall. Dad travels every week so he's never home and when he does come home he lives on the cell phone. If you ask me he's having an affair. Mark's in residence and flunking out of Saint Mary's and Adam is dealing drugs.”

Poor old Dad choked on his noodles and had to take a glass of water. Colleen slapped him on the back. When he finally got his wind back, he kept dabbing his face with his napkin and sputtering, “How can this be? Is this true? This is so upsetting. Little Adam dealing drugs?”

Hilary put another mouthful on her chopsticks. “I don't know if he's dealing drugs, but he has weed in his room.”

Ah, to be young again, Colleen thought.

“I can't believe your father would be having an affair.” Dad was still sweating. It was probably the spices.

Colleen looked at him. “I couldn't believe it either…I mean, I can't believe it either.”

It went right over his head.

Hilary backed down on that as well. “I can't say for sure that he is. I just heard Mom on the phone say that Dad was too tired for sex and she was getting sick of it, so I figured he must be getting it elsewhere.”

Dad's mouth dropped open. Colleen felt sorry for him. She decided to press ahead. “And I suppose Mark is only getting average grades, so he's not really flunking.”

“If I was bringing home C's, I'd get shit for it.”

Colleen was going to have to get her dad out of the restaurant before his heart stopped. “Dad, why don't you go to the men's room and splash some water on your face? You're looking a little flushed.”

He fumbled around with his napkin. “Yes, yes…perhaps I should.”

Hilary was unaware that she was flustering her grandfather. The narcissism of youth was mind blowing. Colleen remembered it well. As soon as he lurched off to the john, Colleen got right to it.

“How are you and your mother getting along?”

“We're not. She thinks I'm a lesbian.”

Thank God Dad was gone.

“And are you?”

“How do I know? I've only ever kissed animals.”

“Good point.”

“I know she's ashamed of me, so screw her.”

“Oh Hilary, she's not ashamed of you, honey. Let me tell you about your mother. I hate to say it, but the only thing she ever thought she had going for her was her beauty. She gets her self-esteem from it. Your grandmother Hanover brought her up that way, so it's not really your mom's fault.”

“How come you escaped?”

“Just lucky, I guess. She really is a good person. You and your mom will be best friends one day. Have a little patience. She tried so hard to have you. You're very much wanted.”

Hilary grunted.

Early the next morning, while Dad organized their suitcases, Colleen snuck into her mother's room. She looked very small in her king-sized bed. She was wearing her black silk eye mask.

Colleen reached over and touched her mother's shoulder. “Mom?”

She sat straight up. “What?”

“It's me. Dad and I are leaving soon. We'll let you know when we get home.”

“Okay. Goodbye, dear.” She puckered her lips.

Only her mother would say goodbye to someone with a mask on. Colleen leaned down and her mother kissed her. Then she lay back down again. Colleen was at the door when she thought of something.

“Mom?”

She sat straight up. “What?”

“Are you and Derek okay?”

“We're getting a divorce.”

Colleen came back in the room. “A divorce?”

“Don't sound so surprised. It happens all the time.”

“But…”

“He was too clingy. Your father was never like that. It bugged me after awhile. Safe trip.” Zorro fell back into bed.

Colleen got in the car and turned on the engine. Dad put on his seatbelt.

“Mom and Derek are getting divorced.”

“I knew he wouldn't last.”

“How did you know?”

“She's only ever loved me.”

That's all he said on the subject.

She dropped Dad and his suitcase off at the house, told him she'd see him on the weekend, and then took the car to the Credit Union and asked to see the manager. A half-a-million-dollar cheque isn't something you can deposit at an ATM machine. Maybe a teller, but she didn't want everyone knowing her business.

The manager was delighted to hold onto her money for her and told her she should speak to one of their investment advisors. She said she'd leave that for another day. A lot of it she would put away for her old age, but she knew she was going to buy Ewan and Lila a new truck and a new tractor. And she wanted to build a few more craft stores in and around Cape Breton, creating more work for rural women. The artistry of the women in small communities was breathtaking.

Her big indulgence was going to be buying her own horse. She'd always wanted a horse. And a pot-bellied pig.

By this point, Colleen was desperate to get to the bungalow. She needed to breathe Round Island air. It was the middle of September and the weather was still lovely. When she unlocked the door the place was hot and stuffy. She stood in the middle of the room and thought about the things she could do now to spruce the place up, and then decided she wanted to leave it exactly as it was. Some things were never meant to be messed with.

Once she unpacked, she headed across the field towards the farm. It felt so good to get out of the city, with its traffic lights and road signs and miles of strip malls. Uncle Louis and Stephens had asked her to stay at their penthouse if she was ever in New York. Fat chance. She extended the invitation to them as well. If they did come she'd buy a movie camera to record their first impressions.

As always, Lucky was waiting by the brook. Lila said he waited there when she was away. It was sort of halfway between the properties. He knew to have his supper and stay at the farm to sleep, but every day he'd go down to see if she was coming.

She clapped her hands. “Hello, baby boy!”

He lifted his head. It's pretty hard to run and wiggle with excitement at the same time, but Lucky managed it. She rubbed his head and patted him all over before giving him a scratch by his tail. His back foot scratched the air and then he rolled over and wanted his belly done.

The two of them walked up to the farm. No one seemed to be around, which was unusual. She didn't see Ewan's truck, but Duncan's was there. She called his name around the yard, but he didn't answer. Mystified, she went into the house. There he was, singing to the radio while frying up thick slabs of bologna. Polly gave her a wolf whistle.

It felt like home.

“There she is! I was wondering when you'd be back. The place hasn't been the same without you. Want a bologna sandwich?”